


Backroom Fortunes

by Poohzhunny



Category: The Arcana (Visual Novel)
Genre: Asra (The Arcana) Route Spoilers, Costume Parties & Masquerades, Family Loss, Friendship/Love, Magic, Other, Red Plague (The Arcana), loss of a loved one
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-08-25
Updated: 2019-08-25
Packaged: 2020-09-26 10:04:50
Rating: Mature
Warnings: Major Character Death
Chapters: 1
Words: 5,762
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/20387947
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Poohzhunny/pseuds/Poohzhunny
Summary: Standing on a balcony with a dying Lucio, Asra ponders the past before facing what’s ahead of him.





	Backroom Fortunes

**Author's Note:**

> ⚠️⚠️ *Spoiler Warning Asra and MC Routes* ⚠️⚠️

Asra looks down at the gardens, his gaze carefully neutral as he listens to Lucio’s incessant whining. Not much longer now. He heaves a silent sigh, bringing one of his favourite memories up to the surface to give himself strength. He almost smiles as he recalls the first time he met her.

***

The market is bustling. He can hear the throng outside, revelling in the Masquerade and its delights. He’s set up in the back of a magic shop, selling fortunes for the day. The pedestrians move along the street, stopping to eye his wares and request a reading. He’s making good coin so far - he and Muriel will be able to eat well for weeks.

The shopkeep comes in with a pot of tea for him, and he returns her bright smile in thanks. Someone is tailing behind her, just out of view until the woman steps to the side, waving her hand at the newcomer. His breath catches in his throat at the sight of her.

“Asra, dear, this is my niece, Lilim.” As she speaks, he scrambles to regain his senses but the more he sees, the more stricken he finds himself. Thick and wild, her golden white hair waves and shimmers in the sunlight, all the way down to its darkened bronze tips, a perfect accent to deep bronze eyes that look fondly at Ms Tina. “I told her about your masks. She desperately needs a new one this year.” She steps up to her niece and places a motherly kiss on her temple. “My treat, sweetheart. Come see me when you’ve chosen, before you go.”

Lilim stays at the edge of his booth, eyeing all the different masks before she turns her gaze to him as he sits, hypnotized. “Asra, was it?” She waits for him to answer, patient, her bright aura radiating calm.

He nods, taking a moment to clear his throat and lick his lips to moisten them before speaking. “Ms Tina hadn’t mentioned her niece before. How lovely to meet her family.”

The crowd thickens around her, pouring into the shop from the street from sheer influx. Something is happening outside. Asra stands and comes to the door to see what just as Lilim is pushed into him by the throng. He steadies her with his arm, light at first, but further jostling has him encasing her protectively until she’s pressed against him for balance. Her mane tickles the side of his face and his eyelids droop as the soft fragrance of honey and sage suffuse his senses. She cranes her neck, either oblivious to their close contact, or unaffected by it, looking into the street for the source of the commotion.

A litter comes into view, housing a regal, tall, elegant noble woman with dark skin and long, purple hair. Lilim gasps, her eyes growing wide in unabashed admiration. “Is that...?” Her voice trails off.

Asra knows who this is from some of the gossip about Vesuvia. “Nadia Satrinava, seventh Princess of Prakra.”

“She’s beautiful.”

Her eyes are following the carriage as it rides by. Thankfully, she doesn’t notice his own gaze fixated on her profile as he whispers, “Stunning.”

As the crowd begins to clear to follow the carriage down the street, Ms Tina waves to her niece urgently. Lilim turns, suddenly noticing she lingers against him and blushes before stepping away. His arm falls useless to his side, her warmth lingering on his skin. “Well, it was wonderful meeting you, Asra.” She skitters back to her aunt who hands her a basket. They hug and she leaves, and it feels as though she is taking all of the light with her.

“Lovely, isn’t she.” He turns, realizing Ms Tina has sidled close to him with a wry grin.

“I’d heard of the Princess’ beauty. She didn’t disappoint.”

“I wasn’t speaking about the Princess,” she retorts, returning to her spot behind the counter before he can comment.

***

“Asra, I hate waiting.” Lucio’s voice grates on his nerves. He suspects it would regardless of its actual tone, but as it is, the sickly nasality only adds to his distasteful nature. Asra ignores him. No sense acknowledging his prattling, he doesn’t listen to anyone.

His mind returns to her. The masquerade ended without Lilim making another appearance at the shop, at least while he was there. A year passed. Wherever she might have been in Vesuvia or elsewhere, they didn’t run into each other. A fleeting moment, precious but ultimately unique, he’d thought. He had given up on on ever seeing her again. As the masquerade grew near, Ms Tina approached him to take the back room of the shop again since he’d done such fine work, she’d said, and he’d accepted.

***

It’s the third day of the Masquerade and the crowds move, fluid, in and out of the shop. It’s midday and he feels the need for some rest before continuing. He stands, stretching, with a thought of going into the market for some food when a soft voice sounds from behind the curtain. Could it be? He peeks out quietly. Lilim is fussing over her aunt, grabbing a heavy-looking basket from her.

“Aunty, you must be careful. This is why I’m here, remember?”

The older woman huffs in indignation but allows her to take the basket upstairs where she disappears. “Asra!” She notices him in the opening. “You must be famished, you’ve been busy.”

“Yes, Ms Tina. I was about to step outside for a bite. Do you need anything?”

“No, but would you be so kind as to bring back some pumpkin bread for Lilim? She’s been running herself ragged for me all morning, and I think she would enjoy it. The baker is just down the street from here, you can’t miss the smell. She should be down by the time you get back.”

“That does sound delicious.” He waves away the coin she tries to hand him for the treat and heads out into the market. Despite the plethora of smells that fill his nostrils, Ms Tina spoke true and not too far down, the scent of cinnamon, cloves and cardamom catch his steps until he finds the baker. The man, a strong, rotund fellow with burns on his hands greets him and he asks about the bread.

“Ah, you’re lucky,” he says, “last two before I can bake more.” He wraps the two loaves in waxed paper and hands them to him.

Asra notices the pink burn scars on the baker’s forearms and points at them. “May I?” The man frowns but nods, curious as Asra slides his thumbs over the marks.

His eyes threaten to bulge out of their sockets when they disappear. “Would you look at that!” He says, waving away the payment for the bread. “On the house.”

Asra walks the market a little more before heading back to the magic shop where he finds Lilim tidying from the morning bustle. She turns to look at who just enters and her curious expression turns to a warm smile of recognition. His heart skips a beat at the sight and by the time he reaches the counter across from her, he feels a touch light headed before he remembers to breathe.

“Asra, how wonderful to see you.” She lifts one finger up as she seems to recall something and runs upstairs where the clinking of dishes reaches his ear. She returns with a tray laden with a teapot and cups. She puts her hand to the side of the pot and within moments, steam begins to waft out of the spout. “For you. My aunt insists that it’s your favourite. Lapsang Souchong?”

He nods, unable to hide his grin. “You can do magic?”

“A little,” she giggles. “I’m no Asra the Magician, mind you,” she winks, taking a peek into the pot to check on the tea.

He can’t help but laugh as he hands her one of the wrapped loaves. “For you.”

She blinks at the package, her nose crinkling adorably at the aromas that come from it. “What’s this?”

“Pumpkin bread. Your aunt said you would like it.”

“Hm, that aunt of mine, huh. Pumpkin, you said? Well, I suppose we’ll see.” She unwraps the bread as he pours two cups of tea, sliding a cup to her over the counter. She pulls a corner off and sniffs at it, somewhat dubious, before putting it in her mouth. She chews under his watchful gaze and he smiles as her expression changes from mere curiosity to one of surprise. Her eyes close and her brow furrows in delight. He barely hears it, but the moan from her throat makes him bite his lip until he wisens and stuffs some bread into his own mouth lest she notice.

“This is amazing!”

They eat in silence until they are left licking their fingers clean. Eventually, Lilim finishes her cup but waves off another. “I should get back to my aunt. Thank you, Asra, this was wonderful.”

“Is Ms Tina alright?” He asks out of intuition, before he can stop himself.

She nods, but he doesn’t miss the worry in her eyes as she casts them upstairs where he assumes her aunt is resting. “Yes, but she is an old woman. The Masquerade was hard on her last year so I wanted to help a little more this round.” She gives him a reassuring smile and heads up with a nod, leaving him to his thoughts as he returns to the back room.

***

The rest of the Masquerade was a blur and though he did see Lilim here and there, she kept too busy to have much time for chatter despite her aunt’s best efforts to put them in the same room.

Lucio groans behind him. “I hate watching other people party.”

Asra’s fingers tighten over the railing but he remains silent, keeping his thoughts away from the count, to the following year.

***

The first day of the masquerade is winding to a close and he begins to clean up his booth when he hears a knock. He looks up to see Lilim at the curtain. The strain around her eyes makes him wish he could comfort her but they still know each other so little. She manages a smile. “Asra, aunty asks to see you before you go.”

He heads up the stairs and into the bedroom. Ms Tina taps a spot next to her on the bed and he sits, taking her hand in his. Her smile is tired, but kind. “Asra dear, you and I both know this is my last Masquerade.” He squeezes her hand a little tighter and nods. He does know, her fading aura an unmistakable sign. She pats his hand, reassuring. She isn’t afraid. “I need you to do me a favour. Two, if you don’t mind.”

“Anything, Ms Tina.”

“Lilim will be taking over the shop. Will you continue to tell fortunes in the back room for her?”

He nods again without hesitation and she chuckles weakly. “What else do you need?”

“Would you take her out on the canals tonight? She fusses over me and I am so very tired. Just until the fireworks finish up.”

He opens his mouth to protest but clamps it shut. It doesn’t feel right to decline a dying wish because he’s afraid to ask. He clears his throat, feeling the flush on his cheeks. “Alright. Just for you Ms Tina.”

He doesn’t miss her wry smile. “Yes, I know, what hardship I place on you.” She waves him closer and he bends to her so she can plant a kiss to his forehead. His throat clenches and his eyes sting as he pulls back. “Now, now, surely my Lilim isn’t so unpleasant as all that?”

He laughs despite himself and she shoos him out of the room. He takes one more look before closing the door, taking the steps down slowly to regain his composure. He feels better by the time he sets eyes on Lilim who waits by the display of herbs and apparatus, wringing her hands. “I hope she didn’t spill all of my darkest secrets?”

For a moment, he only looks at her, puzzled, but realizes she is merely trying to alleviate her own tension with a joke and he bursts out laughing, some of his own nerves loosening. “No. She did ask me to make sure that you get some air and some food before I leave for the day.” He offers her his elbow with his best smile. “Would you join me? I’d like to head to the canals, catch the fireworks.”

She looks up toward her aunt’s bedroom and he can see the conflict behind her expression. For a moment, he thinks she’ll decline but when she turns back to him, her eyes lock with his. Her gaze softens and she removes her apron before sliding her arm through his. “I could use some air, thank you, Asra.”

They head outside and lock up before heading toward the water. As they walk, he realizes she clings to his arm for support, her fingers lost in the folds of his sleeve. His eyes scan the edges of her profile and he sees the deep-seated exhaustion she tries to hide from him. Her efforts to care for her dying aunt are taking their toll, and though he knows she does so gladly he sees the gaunt look of her cheeks. He knows she’s not eaten today, not even the pumpkin bread he brought for her at lunch.

“Are you hungry?” He disregards her wave and steps over to a kiosk, pointing for two candied violets. He hands her one and she takes it, sliding it into her mouth in silence, but not without a sly look in his direction.

As they near the docks, gondolas scattered across the water to watch the fireworks, she stops walking, her eyes to the sky. She takes a deep breath and her lids close. “Sometimes, I think she knows me better than I know myself.”

“What do you mean?” He asks, eyeing the delicate curve of her brow and the graceful slant of her nose in profile.

She looks at him and, despite the surrounding darkness, her golden stare is enough to stop his heart in his chest. She blushes a little and looks down. “Well, I appreciate you taking me here tonight, but I know my aunty’s doing when I see it.” He opens his mouth to protest but she shakes her head. “It’s alright. I needed the break, and I imagine so did sh...” the words die in her throat and realization dawns in her eyes.

Her arm slides out from his and in a flash, she turns, sprinting back up the canals as fast as her legs take her. He blinks once, twice, before following behind her but she gains away from him in her haste.

When he arrives, the door to the shop lays open. He closes it behind him, taking a moment to gather himself before going upstairs. He finds her on the bed, sobbing over the inert form of her aunt, her hands clasped through the blankets. He doesn’t hesitate to sit next to her, laying a hand on her back for comfort. The touch startles her and she looks up at him. Tears stream down her face and he reaches up to press a hand to her cheek, gently swiping across with his thumb. She leans into his palm for a moment, clinging to his wrist, trembling with soundless whimpers, her breath hot against his wrist.

To his surprise, she sits up, facing away from her aunt and slumps into him. Her arms curl against his chest, her face in her palms as she cries and he wraps his arms around her. He holds her as long as she needs. When her shuddering breaths slow and he feels her weight press heavy against him, he realizes she fell asleep. He scoops her up gently and takes her into the living quarters to a chaise and lays her down.

He finds a blanket to place over her before going back into the bedroom. Ms Tina looks peaceful, almost as though she is simply asleep. He knows she sent them away so her niece would be spared watching her last moments. He places a spell on the room to ensure the body will remain intact for a time - the arrangements can wait until morning - then closes the door behind him to head to the back room. There is a small bench against the window here and he sits on the cushion. It doesn’t feel right leaving her alone in the shop so he stays.

He wakes to light pressure on his arm. His eyes blink back sleep, taking in the colours of the magic shop’s backroom where he found enough space and pillows to sleep. Lilim’s hand rests on his shoulder for a moment then withdraws, waiting for him to sit up.

“Good morning,” she says. Her eyes are rimmed red but her smile is genuine, if strained. She looks down for a moment, flushing lightly but clears her throat. “Thank you for being here. It helped.”

He stretches his back and he squeezes her hand. His heart flutters when she returns the gesture. “If there’s anything I can do.”

She shakes her head at first but stops. “Well, you can keep using the backroom during the Masquerade.” She scans the shop and he can feel her strain to keep her composure. “It... would help if I’m not alone all the time after today.”

He nods, smiling. “Of course.”

***

He kept his word and returned every day during the Masquerade, and she eventually offered to keep the room ready for him anytime he wanted to use it. His travels took him away throughout the year, but finding ingredients for her as he did gave him a reason to come back to the shop more often. It wasn’t long before they became friends, and the sight of her broad smile whenever he returned in the shop’s door always rendered him speechless.

“Are you even listening to me!?” Lucio prods.

“No.” He can’t hide the contempt in his voice. “You should scurry back to your room. Someone might see you like this.” Asra barely registers the harsh laugh that turns into a cough behind him. Lucio brings out the worst in everyone, including himself.

Lilim had been the light of his life. Lucio would never understand what it means to have someone who matters more than anything else. If he didn’t hate him, he might have pitied him, but the Count had earned every ounce of his loathing. Asra scrunches his eyes shut, pinching the bridge of his nose in an attempt to shake him from his thoughts.

***

They closed the shop early and made their way to the palace. The count opens it to the city during the Masquerade if you can make it inside, and Lilim and Asra decided they should give it a try this year. They wear masks and costumes, the masks carved and painted by himself and Muriel. Lilim looks beautiful with the white half mask of a dove, the feathers shimmering in the light around her brass eyes.

They hold hands, pushing through the crowd that seems to part for them until they are inside. They find a room filled with food and drink and sample almost everything. By the time they enter the ballroom, they are both giddy from all the tasting. The music pulls them onto the floor and Lilim laughs as Asra wraps an arm around her waist but she doesn’t pull away from him. They dance to the slow lull, following his lead, her eyes searching his. It’s hard to tell what she might be thinking with the mask on, but he feels her press into him closer, feels the light touch of her fingers on the skin of his throat, where the hand on his shoulder migrated.

Her gaze is pensive now, curious. He leans his forehead against hers lightly to avoid skewing their masks. Their noses are touching, and when she parts her lips, her breath caressing his skin, he can smell the floral wine they tasted moments ago. Her eyes close, her chin tilts up and her lips brush over his, lighter than feathers, like a whispered question. He kisses her back, luxuriating in how soft her mouth feels against his and lets her feel how long he has been waiting, hoping for this.

They’ve known each other for years now but, although he’s always felt a deep attraction for her, she never showed any interest in taking things beyond their deep friendship. Until now. He could wonder at why, but she slides her fingers into the hair at the back of his neck, pulling him into a deeper, longer kiss, opening her mouth to him, her tongue seeking his in lingering caresses. By the time they stop for air, lightheaded and trembling, her eyes are alight with wonder. He’s never been so affected by a kiss before. Her trembling hands tell him she feels the same.

They continue to dance to the same rhythm for some time, regardless of the music being played. When they find themselves back at the magic shop, she pulls him upstairs to her room and before long, their masks lie discarded on the floor, costumes strewn about the room as their bodies weave themselves into a tangle.

***

“Look at all those ingrates, partying without me.” Deep down, Asra knows there isn’t enough memories to erase his presence entirely, but remembering helps soothe his fraying temper.

He’d never forget their first kiss or the intimacy that came later that night. The days and months that followed blurred together as he and Lilim fell further in love each day. Muriel would complain to him that they were in their own world when together. He spent time at the hut to make up for it, but he wasn’t alway successful at smoothing things over with his friend.

***

He crosses into the clearing, finding her atop the hill. Flower petals, pollen and butterflies are gathering around her in graceful patterns, directed by the pull of her magic as her travelling shawl swirls about her slender form. Her smile turns to him as she notices his approach and her laughter makes him swell with joy. Unlike him, she has kept her magic mainly unfocused as far as he can tell, yet the marvels she conjures never cease to amaze him. As always, he’s left breathless at the sight of her in practice.

She sends the stream in his direction and it furls about him from the ground up to his head, sending his hair into a whirl before bursting out like fireworks above his head. The butterflies slowly disperse, seemingly unaffected. She comes to him, blushing. “I know, I know. What practical use could there possibly be for this, but I couldn’t help it. Everything looks so beautiful today.”

He cradles her face into his hands, a gentle kiss to her forehead. “Who am I to judge such beautiful, breathtaking magic?” He kisses one of her eyelids, then the other before looking into her eyes. He knows she can see the adoration there but he doesn’t care. Even if they haven’t said the words yet, she radiates it just as much as he does. “You’ve taught me wonders I could never dream of.”

She slides her hands up his chest, her nails are pushing in, teasing. “Flatterer.” She winks with a mischievous grin, giggling when his mouth traces the edge of her jaw, kissing her until he can feel her shiver in the warmth of the afternoon. “We promised Muriel we’d gather the herbs. He already thinks I’m stealing you from him. I’d like to show him I’m not just a hopeless distraction.”

He sighs. She’s right, of course. He steals one more, long, soft kiss, running his hands up and down her back, then she pulls away, taking his hand in hers to lead him onward.

***

“Joke’s on them. Soon. I’ll be ready to party in my new body, more handsome than ever!” An overwhelming wave of disgust washes over Asra and he leaves the balcony without another word. He shuts the door to the room behind him, heedless of the threats Lucio throws his way. As he walks down the long hall, his hands begin to relax.

***

His eyes flutter open, blinking a few times to clear the fog of dreams. Not dawn yet, the moonlight still shines through the curtains, casting her skin in an ethereal glow. He hasn’t woken her yet, her chest raising and falling with each breath. Her face is at peace, for once she isn’t reeling from a nightmare. Her shoulder is bare, the blanket falling just below it, revealing her back to him and the long curve of her neck.

He stretches closer, the smell of sage and honey from her hair both soothing and intoxicating. His mouth quirks into a grin as he hovers over her shoulder blade, letting his breath warm her as he traces a path up to the edge of ear. There, his lips brush the sensitive skin once, lighter than a feather. Still asleep, she senses the contact, a soft little moan escaping her throat. He brings his mouth to her again, tickling the hairs at the nape of her neck before grazing his teeth on the long arch of her throat.

He feels her come awake - a brief tension that eases into relaxation immediately as she realizes what woke her. She curves her neck into his mouth, stretching, languid, her hand pulling the blanket down to her waist. She finds his hand under the covers and pulls it across her hip, and down between her legs. He can’t help the chuckle from his throat. She doesn’t say it, but she doesn’t need to. If he’s going to cost her some sleep, he’d better make it worth her while. Not that he didn’t intend to, knowing how little she sleeps at times.

As always, her body responds to his touch. Her spine arches and curls against him as her fingers grope and clench anything they can find purchase on. It isn’t long before she’s tugging the hair on the back on his neck. She opens her legs for him and helps guide him inside as he bites into the back of her shoulder. It’ll leave a mark, but she doesn’t care. Her breath shortens and she stiffens. He giggles softly as the customary foul curses begin to pour from her when she climaxes, heightening his rhythm until his world narrows to a single focus and his own release leaves him slumped over her, face in her hair, fingers laced with hers.

She gets up later with a wink and tells him she’ll get them breakfast. When she returns to the shop, her face is serious. “Asra, things are getting worse out there. Children’s bodies are being carted away in the streets. The plague is spreading.”

Dread sits in his stomach like a ball of lead. He knows. He’s been hearing the rumours. He’s seen the red eyes about town. The illness is too swift and no magic will affect it. Nothing can be done for the victims. He nods to her, keeping his voice calm despite his apprehension. “I know. We need to leave Vesuvia, find somewhere safe until it passes.”

He knew she would resist, but the look of anger and disappointment in her eyes freezes him to the spot. “What?! You can’t be serious!”

He takes her hand in his, pulling it to his heart. “Lilim, there’s nothing we can do to help. If we stay, it’s just a matter of time before one of us gets sick.”

She pulls her hand away and takes a step back from him. He wants to grab her shoulders and pull her close with his entire being. For some reason, this budding fight frightens him more than anything he’s ever had to face in his life. “Asra! Children are dying! There is a doctor looking for assistants to help find a cure. We can’t just leave.”

He stands up, aware of the horror on his face. She means to put herself even closer to danger. “Lilim, there’s nothing they can do. This disease, it’s too swift, too strong. Please! Maybe we can go somewhere to find help, away from here. We can come back once we have something, a plant or a spell that can affect it, but staying is too dangerous.”

He makes to grab her shoulder this time but she dodges his touch and he feels himself losing her, a chasm opening up between them. “No.” Her voice is firm, seething with anger. “I’m not leaving. If you want to go, go right ahead and run. You can pretend all you want that you’re looking for help if it makes you feel less like a coward.” The last word spews out of her mouth before she can clamp it shut and although she cringes, she doesn’t take it back.

The words cut deep, but anger seeps out of the wound. “Fine.” He storms upstairs and grabs his travel bag as Faust slithers into his sash with nervous trills of her tongue. By the time he comes back down, Lilim is nowhere to be seen. She must have gone out to avoid watching him leave. For a moment, he considers staying to plead with her again but her words still ring in his ears.

He closes the shop behind him and walks to Muriel’s hut in a daze. His friend is out when he enters so he sits at the table for a moment, head in his hands, frantic until a bouquet of forget-me-nots attracts his attention, a familiar, calming magic wafting from them. He reaches to touch them when Muriel enters, followed closely by Inanna, a few eggs in his hand. Asra warns him about the plague and to stay away from Vesuvia then leaves before he changes his mind. He follows his intuition, hoping it will guide him to something, someone, anything that will help against the plague.

***

Of course, he never did find anything. After weeks away, he felt Muriel call to him. He knew immediately something had to be very wrong for his friend to reach out to him through the magic of the bear figure he gave him. Muriel never disturbed Asra without cause, so when he found Muriel at his hut, the look of deep sadness from him made his heart drop. He spoke only two words. “The Lazaret.”

His worst fear had come to pass. She’d contracted the plague while working to help find a cure. She had died. Alone. Without him. Her remains had been buried in the sand, only ash and bones, one of thousands of small mounds on the black beach. As he’d held the remains between his fingers, bloody from digging, a vision of her last moments had filled his mind. Her last words, spoken through cracked, dry lips, had been for him. He can feel the last of her magic poured into them, making sure he would hear them when he came looking. “I’m... sorry.” He doesn’t remember how long he stayed on that beach, sobbing into the sand. He doesn’t remember leaving. He returned to some form of his senses in Muriel’s hut where he remained for weeks while his friend watched over him.

He eventually returned to the shop, but the sheer emptiness without her almost drove him mad. When he received the invitation from the palace to help find a cure, he hadn’t hesitated. With resources and money, he could find a way to atone...

As it turns out, he found something better than a cure. Asra walks down to the garden and finds the willow tree by the fountain. He sits against the bark, feeling the mark he made of her name. His eyes close, tears falling down her cheeks. If he had any doubt about what he was about to do tonight, the memories of the Lazaret’s beach washed them away. Even after all this time, he can barely breathe he misses her so much. Her eyes gazing into his, her lips trailing down his neck, her laughter, rare, but bright, loud and unabashed. Her patient, quiet nature, her streak of mischief and dry sense of humour... he misses her stubborn frown whenever she cleaned up after him, or that raised eyebrow he would get if she was decidedly annoyed with him. He would never forgive himself for leaving her and he wouldn’t rest until she was back in his arms.

He startles at the sound of rustling of leaves behind him but the smell of myrrh quiets his fraying patience. Muriel comes into the small clearing to stand beside him. “Thank you for coming.”

The big man shrugs with a frown. “You shouldn’t do this.”

“I have to.”

Muriel sighs, resigned. “She won’t be the same.”

“You don’t know that.” The big man shrugs, apparently done talking. Asra stands and looks into Muriel’s eyes. “Just get Julian out of that dungeon, please. I’ll handle everything else.”

Muriel slips away. Asra knows he can count on his friend. For himself, he’s already made sure the ritual will fail. It’s just a matter of time now.

***

He carries her upstairs, still unconscious. He almost lost his mind when her body began to coalesce in front of him out of silvery smoke but he didn’t waste time getting her out of the palace and back to the shop. To his surprise, Muriel is waiting inside, a look of dread painted on his features as he looks at the fading white mark on Asra’s chest. He lowers her to the bed, his heart racing a thousand beats per minute. “Muriel, it worked.”

His friend comes to have a closer look but jumps back when she begins to cough through deep, ragged breaths, her bronze eyes opening wide, confusion and fear flashing over them. Asra gasps, holding her gently, a hand to her cheek. “Lilim!” She blinks back, but doesn’t speak, guttural noises coming from her throat. “Lilim, please say something.” More wordless sounds.

“I told you.” Asra looks over at Muriel who scowls from his hood, fists clenched. “She isn’t the same.” He turns, clutching the small pouch at his waist, leaving Asra and Lilim behind without another word.


End file.
